A knock at the door had Dean up off the couch and opening the door quickly. Dean's breath caught. It was Cas.

"I'm surprised you came," Dean said.

Cas quickly defended, "I always come when you call, Dean. I-"

Dean cut him off, "I wouldn't know."

Cas nodded with eyes glued to the floor. "I tried calling," he said.

"Yeah, I—I saw," Dean said, "I'm sorry I didn't answer. I was in the bathroom and—"

"It's okay," Cas said.

Before any hard silence could present itself, Dean said, "I was hoping you could help me remember...or at least fill me in...about us."

Cas' bright blue eyes widened with shock. "Oh," he said.

Dean waited for an answer, but Cas just kept staring at him.

"So?" Dean asked.

Cas hesitated like he was weighing his options. He said quickly, "Okay, but it'll have to wait till tomorrow. It's too late to do this today." It was almost 10pm. Cas had a point.

"Okay," Dean said. He was just grateful Cas said yes and relieved he came over at all. Maybe he hadn't completely ruined everything.

"Well, see you tomorrow then," Cas said. He turned back towards the door.

Dean reached out and grabbed Cas' arm lightly. He said, "You could stay. I mean, I haven't really spent any time with you."

Cas eyed Dean's hand on his arm with unnerving intensity. Dean quickly removed it. He had no idea how to be around this guy.

"Are you sure?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," Dean said.

Cas squinted at him slightly. It was very clear that Cas didn't believe him. Dean crossed over to the couch and patted the cushion next to him. Cas sat down slightly too close for comfort.

"What would you like to do, Dean?" Cas asked.

Dean felt like this was a loaded question. He leaned back a little to put some more space between them and said, "How about truth or truth? I have a hell of a lot of questions for you."

It worked on Sam whenever he needed to pump for information, so maybe it would work now. Normally, he'd offer dares to anyone but Sam, but he didn't quite trust Cas yet, and he really just wanted answers.

"Really? Truth or truth?" Cas sighed, "Okay, sure."

Dean decided to start off slow. "Bears or Packers?" he asked.

Cas sighed, "Bears, but I'm not really much for sports."

"Cubs or Sox?"

"Cubs, and that was definitely my turn."

"Oh, sorry."

Cas locked eyes with Dean that made him very afraid of the impending question.

Cas asked, "What was the name of the girl you picked up at the bar last night?" Dean tried not to let his jaw drop. He was trying to start off light. What could he possibly say to make it up to Cas?

Cas said after a moment, "I'm not mad, we aren't together, you don't even know me. I'm just curious."

That helped Dean feel a bit better. Still, he felt like shit for letting Cas see him with a woman. He figured lying would only cause more problems. Maybe if he was honest with Cas, Cas would be honest with him.

Dean answered, "Her name was Lydia. I'm so sorry about that, Cas. I didn't think-"

"It's okay," Cas said quickly, "Your lack of memory hurts much worse than seeing you at a bar with Lydia. And your amnesia is not your fault, so it's really okay."

That didn't sting at all. He should have tried to talk to Cas sooner. Like in the hospital sooner.

"Are you just telling yourself that?" Dean asked. He couldn't blame Cas for hating him for ruining his life, but he would like to know if that was the case.

"Is that your question?" Cas asked.

"No."

"I do not blame you for circumstances out of your control, so I'm not just telling myself that. And it's your turn."

Dean tried to believe that. Maybe if he could remember the shooting, he'd stop blaming himself.

Dean tried again for easy questions, like something he'd ask on a first date. "What do you do for a living?" he asked.

Cas replied, "I teach history to high school students. And before you ask, yes, I do enjoy it."

"Your turn."

"Did you sleep with Lydia?"

Cas was as subtle as an atomic bomb.

"I thought you said you weren't mad," Dean countered.

"I'm not. I'm honestly curious. And I don't exactly have a lot to ask you since I know you better than you do right now."

Touche.

"No, I didn't sleep with Lydia," Dean answered.

"Why?" Cas asked.

Before they opened that can of worms, Dean had one question he needed to know the answer to. He said, "Ah ah, it's my turn."

Cas sighed heavily, "Fine."

Dean asked, "Do you still love me?"

Cas hesitated. He looked at the ring still on his finger. Dean hadn't noticed Cas was still wearing it. He wondered if that was all the answer he needed.

"That's complicated," Cas said.

"No, it's not."

"I don't make a habit of being in love with straight men," Cas said.

That wasn't quite satisfactory. Cas clearly had feelings for him before. And he was pretty sure he'd been straight at the time. Plus, Cas was obviously avoiding the question.

"And yet we're engaged," Dean countered.

"We were engaged," Cas argued, "There is quite a difference."

"Just answer the question."

"Isn't there anything else you want to know about me?" Cas asked.

He looked like he wanted an out. Dean wanted to give it to him. He'd already put the poor guy through hell. But he needed to know. If he really did feel something for Cas, he needed to know if there was even the slightest chance.

"Yes, but this is more important," Dean said.

Cas shot him an exasperated look. "Why?" he asked, "Why is it important? Why do you want to know how I feel? Why didn't you sleep with Lydia after you saw me at the bar? Why do you want to know about me or about us?"

"You were important to me, or so I'm told. I want to get an idea of what my life was like," Dean said. He didn't want to talk about the small memories. He didn't want to get Cas' hopes up. He hadn't remembered anything else since.

"What aren't you telling me?" Cas asked. Was the guy always this perceptive?

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Dean Winchester," Cas snapped.

Dean really shouldn't have been surprised at Cas' lie detection skills. They'd been together for way longer than Dean cared to acknowledge. Like he said, Cas knew Dean better than Dean did. That fact made him really not want to mention the memories. It would give Cas hope. And he couldn't do that to him. Not after all he'd lost. Dean stayed silent.

"Fine," Cas said. He pushed himself off the couch and walked towards the door. Dean panicked. He couldn't screw it all up now. He needed to say something to get Cas to stay or listen or something.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Dean said.

Cas paused and turned around. "What?" he said. He sounded much more irritated than intrigued, and Dean realized that he needed to tell him. Otherwise, Cas would walk right out that door and never come back. Cas sat back down on the couch and waited patiently for Dean to explain.

Dean said, "That's why I didn't have sex with Lydia. I was going to, but I started remembering tiny things about you. Then, being with Lydia didn't feel so right anymore."

"You remembered something?" Cas asked. His tone seemed as excited as the light in his eyes.

"Don't get too excited," Dean said, "It was just your eyes and smile. That's it."

Cas stared at him intently. Those eyes were going to drive Dean insane. It was bad enough that Cas' eyes were one of the only things he could remember, but those bright blue eyes would haunt Dean's dreams. He saw them every time he closed his eyes. To have those beautiful eyes pouring into him in person was a bit too much for Dean to handle.

"What?" Dean asked.

"How do you feel about me?" Cas asked quickly. Now, that was complicated.

Dean hedged, "I asked you first."

"Dean."

"No, I asked you first. Do you still love me?"

"Yes. Always," Cas said without hesitation.

Dean tried to ignore the way his heart leapt at that.

"Dean, how do you feel-" Cas started.

"I don't know," Dean said, honestly, "I think I feel something, or maybe I remember feeling something. I know I feel better when I'm around you. You don't know how much I...it's confusing. Everything is really confusing. I think the best I can do is friends for now."

Dean tried to ignore the hurt look on Cas' face. It helped that Cas tried to hide his reaction, but Dean still noticed the way Cas cast his gaze to the carpet in an attempt to hide the flicker of pain.

"I think I should go," Cas said.

"You don't have to," Dean said, "We can just relax. I promise I won't ask any more big questions." Scaring the guy off was the last thing he wanted to do.

Cas stood up. "I should really go," he said.

"Why?" Dean tried.

Cas sighed and met Dean's eyes. Cas looked tired, worse than tired. He looked exhausted. And sad. Dean tried not to let it affect him, but he couldn't help but feel responsible or at least like giving the poor guy a hug. Cas gave Dean a soft smile saturated with too much grief to be happy.

"Because you look like my fiancé," Cas said, "You have his face and his voice, but you're not him, so I'd rather not put myself through the pain right now."

Dean couldn't argue with that. He felt a sense of loss, too. But wishing he'd know Cas better or remember the lost time was one thing. He couldn't imagine the pain Cas felt. And he didn't have to. It was all right there on Cas' face that day in the hospital when he knew his Dean was dead. Instead, he squashed his disappointment and nodded.

As Cas got to the door, he said, "So, I'll come by in the morning around eight, okay?"

"You're still going to help me?" Dean asked. It was amazing but shocking nonetheless.

Cas replied, "Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

The relief Dean felt left him momentarily forgetting to keep boundaries with Cas. He hugged Cas tightly and said, "Thank you."

Cas pushed away from him, gasping slightly, and turned around to face the wall in the hallway.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, "I didn't think—I'm sorry."

Cas shook his head and turned back towards Dean. "It's okay," he said, "It's just hard."

Dean saw a tear roll down Cas' cheek. His hand wanted to wipe it away. He could almost remember doing just that. He fought the urge to touch Cas again and stuffed his hand in his pocket.

Cas wiped the tear away with his sleeve and said a quick, "I'm sorry." Dean watched as Cas walked swiftly down the hallway.

Cas paused at the stairwell. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. Then, he was gone.

Dean's feet told him to go after him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he needed to chase after Cas and hold him and tell him that everything would be okay. But he squelched that urge, too. It would only make things worse. And he'd see Cas tomorrow.

Dean sighed and closed the apartment door. He rested his head against the inside of the door and seriously considered changing his name to Fuck-Up Winchester.